Narrow
by OutrageousIngeniousBrilliance
Summary: It happened when Dave was nine years old, the incident, that is. It was the worst incident of its kind, but not the only one like it and not the only one Dave had ever faced.


_Prompt 14/25_

_Prompt: Narrow – adj., of small width_

Narrow

It happened when Dave was nine years old, the incident, that is.

It was the worst incident of its kind, but not the only one like it and not the only one Dave had ever faced. It happened on the sixth floor of the apartment complex, the floor Dave lived on. The complex had eight floors and was nothing like the apartment that Dave moved into when he was twelve when Bro's websites hit big a one day and they had enough money to not only actually eat twice a day but move as well. As Bro stared at his bank account that day, Dave was pretty sure the small smile was the most expressive he ever saw his Bro.

This apartment was in a shitty part of Houston that was poor and shady. Every other person spoke Spanish and the rest spoke Spanglish. There were flights and murders and kidnappings and drugs and everything else. It wasn't an ideal area to raise a child in, but Bro couldn't afford anywhere else, so they were stranded in their one room/one bath apartment with barely any appliances.

It was just passed midnight and Dave was sitting on the couch, Bro's bed, watching some horrible show that a nine year old should probably not be watching. Voices started to penetrate the wall behind the TV and Dave was in so not in the mood for it. This couple moved in only three weeks ago, after the previous owner had been arrested for gang violence, the one before that a drug bust, and the before that a suicide. All of this was in a span of a year.

This couple was loud, annoying, and just plain horrible to each other. They yelled and screamed and argued and Dave didn't understand why if they hated each other so much why they stayed together. Who would stay with someone like that? Bro wouldn't be back until three, when his new job ended, but he usually broke up the fight by the time it took someone else to complain. The cops come to this floor enough already.

The fight escalates within the next hour, waking up the family of a mother and five children, all under the age of nine, who lived to the other side of Dave's apartment. The argument was loud and all about the man accusing the woman of sleeping with her boss and his heroin dealer. He was right on both accounts, Dave knew. The dealer and the woman made out in the hallway all the time. She would tell him he was better and bigger than her boss and her boyfriend combined: queue loud sex noises. It was disgusting.

Dave wished they would shut up, he wanted to sleep. At three twelve in the morning, when the first commercial came on of the new show, shots rang out next door and there was a sound of a window breaking. Another two shots came from next to the TV, narrowly passing Dave's head, and embedded itself into the wall. Blood pumping, Dave was on the floor in a couple seconds flat. His fights with Bro were finally becoming useful. He could hear some of the neighbors.

"911!"

"The cops are coming!"

"Hide the stash!"

"Shit, why tonight!"

"I said _hide the fucking stash_!"

The cops called for the ninth time this month and they were only halfway through November. There was the sound of wood breaking and other noises of a struggle, but from where Dave couldn't tell. Crawling on the ground, Dave moved himself to his bed and positioned himself between it and the wall that held the bathroom on the other side.

Striders don't get scared. That includes even if they just narrowly missed a bullet. He told himself that before hysterically giggling for a second and trying to calm down the shaking that was overcoming his tiny body. If the cops got here in forty five minutes, Bro would be home and everything would be okay.

The police arrived in fifteen and swarmed the hall and a voice came from a big megaphone.

"Everyone on this goddam hall! We've got warrants to search the floor! You know we do, we just went through this shit last week!" Dave calmed himself and looked around for anything suspicious. There was a katana on the ground so he put it under his Bro's bed and answered the door. If you didn't answer immediately they knocked your door down. That already happened once this month. Officer Baker, head of this police division, looked down straight at Dave and sighed.

"Dave, your brother isn't there, is he?"

"It depends on your definition of here, Roger." With a turn towards the light, Officer Roger Baker was staring straight at his reflection from the boy's glasses. He hated that. It was why Dave always turned towards the light.

"Don't sass talk me, boy! You'll address me as Officer Baker." The big burly Texan said, like Dave hasn't known his whole name for two years now. "Look, kid. I've let you off the hook too many times, but this is the last. I _will_ call Child Services to launch an investigation next time."

"Whatever, Roger." _Shit_! Not good! _Not good_! _MAYDAY MAYDAY!_

Way down deep in Dave, Child Services ranked third on the things Dave is deathly scared of. They would take him away from his brother and both Striders knew it. This time the blonde narrowly missed what could have been a full blown investigation into the Strider lifestyle. Dave never wanted that to happen.

The police units started going into rooms and interrogating all of them on the shooting. The man tried to shoot the girl, only to miss and hit a window. She then grabbed the gun, missed two more times and shot him in the head on the third.

Dave saw the rest of his floor in various states of dress, sitting outside their respective rooms, after hearing the story. He sat with this back to the wall. The man who shot porn of his three girl roommates had a shirt and boxers and the three girls wore flimsy dresses. One of the girls, Chastity, asked if he was okay. Dave nodded to the young teenage girl.

"Well thank the heavens; God knows that this is some messed up shit for a kid to see." She was always nice to Dave. There were also the Greek restaurant owners next to them, the bartender who just got off work, the next three rooms filled with gang members of a division of the biggest Hispanic gang in Houston. There was also the crack dealer, the crack user, and finally the family of six. Dave knows the mother is a stripper who did things on 'the side' for some extra cash. It was also why she had so many damn children that all looked different from one another.

Officer Baker asked him basic question on what happened and what had occurred and Dave, with no reason to lie, answered truthfully. It was 4:30 when Bro, done with telling the officer that _yes_, he did live here walked over to Officer Baker. The investigation on the couple was over and now the crack user was getting busted. Bro and officer talked for a while, which was more like scolding and backtalk, before Bro tells him to get inside the apartment in the voice that he would use if Dave was in trouble. Dave does, sitting on the couch. Bro investigates the bullet holes, the bullets collected as evidence.

"You okay little man?" Bro asks. Dave nods. Striders don't get scared. Being on the couch, where he almost fucking died was shaking him up. He could have _died_… say goodbye to Dave Strider everyone! The show is over! Shit, when had be began shaking? He looked over to Bro to see if he noticed.

Yep, Bro was staring straight at him.

"If you say so, you're still sleeping in here with me regardless." Rare affection from Bro as he sits and tries to calm Dave's shaking. Dave, in a rare show of affection leans against Bro and lets his worries disappear.

Compliments? Concerns? Compliants?

Put them in a Review!

Dave is the second richest in Homestuck out of all the kids. The way he flashes all of his gadgets and all, though, reminds me of someone who is almost new to being rich and trying to flaunt it to make up for a time when they didn't have it. My head cannon though, believe whatever you want.

Thank you for Reading!


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